SuperWhoLock: Celestial Grief
by whomaniac
Summary: After becoming rogue and no longer following heaven's orders, Cas seeks out the Winchesters about the affairs of angels grieving over some mysterious celestial grief. In fact, they are turning to stone and weeping. The latest case of the ordeal takes place in London, and Cas must send the boys there to help investigate the case of his siblings. But they meet others too... DW/SH/SPN
1. Chapter 1

**Basic summary: This starts out in the future and goes back to the story of how they got into the mess at the beginning. Cas is a rogue and no longer serves heaven. Any questions, don't be afraid to ask!**

**Disclaimer: I own nothing pertaining to Supernatural, Doctor Who, or Sherlock. These characters belong to the creators respectively. Nothing belongs to me. **

With a skittering crash, the blue box came to a halt, ramming sideways into the small café on the corner. What remained of the restaurant was now nothing more than a smoking pile of dust and debris, shattered glass showered the floors, tables were upturned completely and booths were torn apart. Whatever had taken control of the time machine had done its work properly. Nothing remained standing. Luckily, the place was closed at the time so no one was hurt… well, more or less.

The doors of the TARDIS flung open and six men stumbled out of it, all landing in a jumbled heap outside of the box. Groaning and coughing they all made it to their feet, five of them glancing, no, glaring, at the sixth in disgust as they dusted themselves off. The man in the tan trench coat spoke first.

"For being the man who drives this vehicle for a living, your skills are not up to standard." Castiel, the angel, well… used to be angel, of the Lord remarked without emotion. He straightened his trench coat and glanced to the two demon-hunting brothers who stood behind him. Dean chuckled at Cas's remark.

"He's right, Doc. What the hell kind of driving was that? I thought Sam's driving was bad… but damn you put _him_ to shame." The older Winchester clapped his brother on the shoulder in a mocking gesture. "Isn't that right Sammy?" Before Sam could respond, a sharp voice cut him off.

"Can you stop blubbering about like morons and be useful for a change?" This time it was the consulting detective who spoke. His long black coat was a little.. Well, a lot worse for wear. A long tear down the side of it had put him in a very cross mood. He liked the coat. It was these moron's fault that it had happened. Mainly the Doctor's, for his terrible piloting skills. John Watson glanced at Sherlock as he talked, furrowing his brow. Of course, back to his usual self wasn't he?

The Doctor scoffed with a quick tweak of his cool neckwear, walking around the TARDIS. "Whatever happened, it wasn't my fault. Something was controlling the TARDIS. It wasn't me. Either way, we aren't getting anywhere anytime fast. She's out of commission until I can get her fixed up again."

The men all looked at each other, faces brooding with schemes and plans. And the urge to beat the hell out of one another for getting into this mess. Dean turned to Sam before turning back to the Time Lord. "So what you're saying, is someone possessed your woman time machine, is that it?"

"Something like that, yes." The Doctor turned around, his arms crossed and brow furrowed in frustration.

"Great… just great." Dean said. "Always has to be something like that…"

**Read and review! Thanks! :) **


	2. Chapter 2

**And now we are back to the beginning of the story, to explain how it all began. Enjoy! Don't forget to review!  
Disclaimer: Still not mine nor will they ever be. **

* * *

The alarm rang out in the man's ear. He bolted upright in bed. The music, Heat of the Moment, it brought back bad memories for the younger Winchester. He looked over to find Dean grinning at him, tying his boots up. "Rise and shine, Sammy!"

Sam rubbed his eyes as he swung his legs over the hotel bed, slamming a palm down on the alarm. "How long was I out? And please tell me it's not Tuesday?"

Dean laughed, walking out of the bathroom with his toothbrush in hand. "Awhile… that shapeshifter had you down for the count. The long count too… it's been two days, Sammy." Another chuckle passed his brother's lips. "No, it's not Tuesday. I am not going to randomly die in the shower, if that's what you're worried about."

Sam sighed in relief, packing up his laptop and his books. The hunt was finished. It was time to get out of this town.

As they walked down the stairs of the Amber Hotel, Sam glanced up at the lawn across from them. He squinted against the bright light of the sunrise and made out what looked to be a man in a tan trench coat. He nudged Dean in the ribs. "What?" When the older brother looked up, the man was gone.

Sam threw the bags into the trunk of the car, along with the shotgun he'd been carrying. He closed the trunk and got into the passenger side of the sleek '67 Chevy Impala. Dean clambered into the driver's seat, cranking up the Led Zeppelin on the radio. A sudden voice rang out from the back seat, making Dean nearly jump through the roof. He frantically switched the radio off and spun around. "Cas! Good God man, don't do that…"

The angel seemed unphased by the man's actions. "Dean. I have news about the angels. Reports say that some of them have turned to stone… they are weeping about some celestial grief. I need your help, Dean."

Dean looked back at Castiel. "Wait.. You're saying that your brothers and sisters are being hit with some kind of Medusa mojo?"

"I highly doubt that Medusa is behind this. But I need your help investigating."

Dean shook his head but shrugged. "Alright… where do we start?"

"The latest report is from London."

"What? As in.. London.. _London_?"

"No, London, England."

Dean regarded the angel for a moment. "Never mind.. Yeah.. Alright. London, England. And you propose we get there how? I'm not flying!"

Sam snickered. Dean scowled at him. "What, you think something is funny? People die in plane crashes, Sam. I don't want to be another statistic! No way!"

Cas spoke up again. "I can just transport us there, it'll be a lot faster…"

"No way. Last time I didn't poop for a week. We have to find another way. We can't exactly drive, seeing as there is an ocean in the way."

"Dean, if you let me send us-"

"No, Cas. Just… no." Dean shook his head.

Sam looked over at his brother. "Dean… come on man, it isn't that bad. Don't tell me you're afraid of angel teleportation mojo now?""I am not afraid, Sam. I just don't like it…"

"Well. Tough." Sam said. Cas tapped Dean's forehead before he could fight back, leaving the Impala sitting in the parking lot of the Amber Hotel, abandoned.

Dean looked around, suddenly feeling himself be pulled backward from the oncoming trail of a red double-decker bus. Cars honked and traffic raged around him. They weren't at the hotel anymore. He snarled to himself. "God damn it Cas!"

He spun around, seeing Sam leaning against the building behind him, Cas was standing on the step next to him. "As I said before. It is faster."

Dean glared at Cas, pointing a finger at him. Cas didn't seem perturbed. "Is there a problem, Dean?"

The older Winchester rolled his eyes and tugged on his coat, straightening it. "Yeah. Quite a few actually, but I'll deal with it later. Now that you got me here and constipated for at least a month this time, what do we know?"

* * *

Sherlock Holmes sat in his usual place at the lab table in St. Bart's mortuary, his thoughts brooding over the sample of a virus he was studying. Molly walked in, her hair fluffed up, makeup recently refreshed, and as she walked over to him readjusted her top. "Morning Sherlock."

The detective made no reply. He continued sitting there, brooding over what was on the small glass slide at the other end of the microscope. "Interesting… this strain doesn't seem to… brilliant!"

Molly turned around. "Sorry?"

"Um… nothing. This strain of virus is totally opposite of the one found at the crime scene. The man isn't suffering from a virus… neat. It's a bacterial infection of the police population… and pretty soon the whole of Scotland Yard is going to be under the weather from it." He grinned happily, that weird bit of adrenaline that he got anytime a case was odd, or just plain whacked out of proportion, coursed through him. He jumped up, grabbing his black coat on his way out of the door. Molly stood there a few moments after he was gone, slightly confused, yet still completely used to it all the same.

Sherlock was on his way back to the Yard when his phone notified him of a new text message.

**Sherlock. I have a case for you. Something you'll be interested in. Mysterious disappearances. No evidence. People just vanishing. **-MH

Sherlock regarded the text for a moment. Impossible. He smirked. He liked those kinds of cases, but he was quite reluctant to help his older brother. He read it a couple of times, not sure why he did. He'd gotten the entire meaning of the text the first time. Finally he sighed and tapped a reply on the screen. **It depends. **-SH

In an instant he received another response. Did Mycroft really need him that much that he had to text him before he did anything else? **Fine. I will be at your flat in an hour. I hope you are done at the Yard by then. **-MH

Holmes rolled his eyes. Of course, his brother was spying on him, again. There was never a time he wasn't. He didn't respond. There was no need. Mycroft would be at Baker Street whether he wanted him there or not.

* * *

"Aw come on! Don't do that! Not now! Come on, Sexy!" The Doctor pounded the console with a fist as the TARDIS sparked in disagreement. He had tried to send the box to Space Florida for a relaxing trip away. Clara was out of the box for the time being. He hadn't seen her since Trenzalore. He hadn't talked to her in months.

But he didn't care about that now. The console sparked again, sending a shower of heat his way. He shielded his eyes with an arm, only for his arm to receive the full blast. Some of the sparks even caught on his shirt and turned into a full flame. His eyes widened as he frantically rushed to put out the small, raging fire that had started on his forearm. "Blimey… it just isn't my day…"

The Doctor turned back to the problem at hand, his sleeve still charred and smoking from the previous ordeal. He glanced to the scanner, it had switched itself on and was showing a map, with a flashing radius and a red dot in the center. Looked like London… it was London. "What's the matter there, eh old girl? Hmm, never mind that. To London it is!"

The Doctor carefully maneuvered the box to London, the TARDIS actually let him go there, just because he needed to be there.

Upon arrival, the Doctor slung on his purple coat to cover his burned shirt, it looked terrible but he didn't have time to change. With a quick adjustment of his bowtie he stepped out of the box, closing the door behind him. With a quick clap of his hand he set off for the newly intended destination.

The Time Lord tugged on the lapels of the purple tweed jacket, walking forward with that usual skip in his step. His long legs carried him through the small park before ending up on a busy street. He squinted against the bright daylight to make out the sign, but to no avail. The sun was too bright and glared against the street sign, making it impossible to read it. He shrugged and continued down the sidewalk, but before he made his way completely to the end of the block, he turned around, and that's when he saw it.

Hidden in a small alcove of the park, standing there in all its malevolent glory, was a stone statue of an angel. Her hands covered her face, as if she was mourning something. No, weeping. The Doctor knew she was weeping. And he now knew why the TARDIS sent him here.

* * *

**Hope you enjoyed it! :)**


	3. Chapter 3

**Double posting today because I won't be around to post over the weekend, so enjoy! :D**

* * *

"The signs all point to this place, Dean." Cas explained, gesturing to the path that led into the park before them. Dean checked his side, making sure the demon-killing blade was still there. He looked over at Sam.

"Cas, there are people all over this park. We can't just go in, guns blazing!" Dean protested. Cas looked back at him.

"Then don't. As I said. I am just investigating this angel. Something seems wrong."

Sam furrowed his brow, pulling a face. "But Cas, if you don't work for them anymore, why does it matter what is happening to them?"

"They are still my brothers and sisters, Sam. I have to look out for them, even if I will not follow the Ark Angel's orders. I am not his bitch anymore. Nor will I ever be."

Dean was taken aback by the angel's use of foul language. He hardly ever swore. He was under the impression that Cas didn't know how. "Well… okay then, let's go already. Tired of standing here doing nothing. Some of these English chicks aren't bad looking, I want to be done with this in time to go get a drink or two and chat with some of them… maybe more than chat." Dean cast a sly wink his brother's way. Sam merely shook his head and waited for Cas to lead the way. He seemed to know what he was doing.

As they walked through the park they received odd looks from the people there. Americans… typical Americans. Especially the shorter one of the two. Dean scowled at them in return, flashing a grin at two college girls sitting beneath a large oak just off the path. They giggled as he did so. Dean nudged Sam, waggling his eyebrows in a suggestive manner. The younger brother shook his head and chuckled. Cas squinted in confusion, that distant look he so often wore on his face had returned.

Nothing happened until they reached the end of the park. Cas turned off the path, much to the surprise of the Winchesters. The man in the trench coat walked into the small clearing that was cut off from the rest of the park by a large circling of trees. There, on the other side of the clearing stood the angel. Cas's eyes widened. "Whatever happened here was the work of a demon I have never heard of…"

Dean eyed the statue for a moment before turning around to face Cas again. "The hell man? It's just a statue? You sent me here to look at a freaking statue?!"

Sam was the last to speak, thoroughly inspecting the sculpture before saying anything. "Guys.. Maybe it isn't a statue. Maybe it is an angel that something happened to."

Suddenly a new voice spoke up behind them. Dean spun around, knife raised in defense. The man stood on the other side of the iron fence. The Winchester lowered the blade, but kept it in his hand. "Get back from it!" He hissed. "It's one of the most malevolent creatures to stalk this planet, one of the oldest creatures in the universe. Don't take your eyes off it…" With an enormous effort the floppy-haired man hopped the fence, landing on his face on the other side. He quickly picked himself up, jumping to his feet as he dusted his jacket off.

"Somebody want to explain to me why in the hell I am having a staring contest with this freaking thing?" Dean exclaimed, extremely annoyed with everyone now. And to make matters worse, the girls had left the park. He mumbled under his breath.

The Time Lord walked over to them. "It's called a weeping angel. If they touch you they will displace you in time."

"Still doesn't explain why I can't take my eyes off it…and how can a stone angel touch me? It's just a statue!"

The Doctor turned to him, eyebrows raised. "It is only a statue when you look at it. They are quantum-locked. When you look at it they freeze into rock, but when you look away…" He made a going-forward gesture with his hands.

"They come to life and try to kill you."

"Not kill you. Displace you. Once they send you back in time, they feed on the potential energy of the life you could have had. Nasty creatures, weeping angels…"

Dean looked over at the strange man in the bowtie. "Right… sure. Cas, does this have anything to do with _your_ angel buddies?"

"I am not certain, Dean." Cas explained.

Sam scratched his head. "So, do we always have to keep our eyes on it, or…?"

"When you are near it…once you look away it will come after you. And they are fast, believe me…" The Doctor wrung his hands together.

The younger Winchester looked over at the Time Lord. "Who are you? A hunter?"

"Heavens no.. I'm the Doctor."

"The Doctor? What kind of rubbish name is that? Doctor who?"

"No, just the Doctor. And you are..?"

"S-Sam Winchester. This is my older brother, Dean. And this is our friend, Castiel."

The Doctor stopped his pacing and looked up at him. "Winchesters? As in… Supernatural? Those books? Those books are bloody brilliant? You are real! I knew it!"

Dean rolled his eyes. "Oh Lord… not again…"

"Sorry, it's just… that really happened… wow. Talk about a crazy life. I thought mine was bad."

"Anyway… how do we stop them, Doctor?"

"Dunno what they are here for yet. So I don't know yet."

"Wonderful. Just fan-freaking-tastic." Dean scoffed.

* * *

**Thanks for reading! :)**


	4. Chapter 4

**Turns out the internet at my dad's place seems to be working. So! Good news! More posting!  
**

* * *

"The case is serious, Sherlock. People going missing under strange circumstances. Yet no record of how they've disappeared." Mycroft slid a manila folder across the table to his brother.

"Curious. How many people?"

"It's in the case file, Sherlock. Just read it."

"I am busy." He said without looking away from the microscope.

Mycroft growled under his breath, frowning at his younger brother. "12 people so far…"

"Twelve? Blimey that is interesting." Sherlock looked up from the microscopic viewings. "Very well. I shall take the case. Do close the door on your way out."

Mycroft narrowed his eyes yet made his way to the door. Sherlock picked up his coat, text John to meet him at the park down the street, and walked out of the room into the crisp morning air of London.

John was sitting on the bench just inside the archway that was the entrance to the park. He smiled when he saw his flat mate. "What's all this then?"

"We are back on a case, that's what. Well, two connected cases really."

"Two? Are you saying you've solved the illness case at the Yard?"

"Not exactly. But the two cases.. Missing persons and illness, are both linked. The illness causes the people to go missing. The same people that are sick have also mysteriously vanished from London."

"I see… so why are we here?"

"Casual meeting place. Or did you not accept my idea?"

"No no it's… fine." John was shocked to say the least. He shook his head and stood up. "So, what do we know?"

"Twelve people have gone missing from the streets of London. Similarly, twelve people have vanished from Scotland Yard as well. Causes unknown." John jumped as a new voice interrupted Sherlock.

"Missing persons you say?" it was the Doctor, though Sherlock didn't know that just yet. He rolled his eyes and turned around.

"Yes, what's it to your tiny mind, civilian?" Sherlock challenged. The Doctor raised his hands.

"Whoa.. Easy now. I was just asking a question. I am investigating something like that as well." The Doctor thrust out a hand. "I'm the Doctor."

Sherlock regarded the man. John sighed and took the hand. "John Watson. This is Sherlock. Sorry about him."

Dean raised an eyebrow, glancing at Sam before looking at the detective. "Damn, what a dick. No need for that, man."

"I don't have time for this. You have three seconds to explain yourself… Doctor." He narrowed his eyes, examining the Doctor's heinous clothing choices.

"Right I happen to know what is behind the disappearances, Sherlock." And then it hit the Doctor… Sherlock Holmes. The detective. His eyes widened. "I am a huge fan Mr. Holmes! I truly am! The cases. I read all about them on that blog of his. Brilliant!"

Sherlock raised an eyebrow once more, his face pensive. Yet, the man said he knew what happened. It was worth a shot. "You say you know more. Out with it then."

"Not here. We can't alert the general public just yet. Come with me, and we can talk privately. Sam, Dean, Cas, come on too. You'll prove useful before long." The Doctor beckoned them along the path, urging the five men to follow. 

* * *

**Thank you for reading! And thank you to all who have reviewed and followed! I appreciate it! **


	5. Chapter 5

As the group of men rounded the bend, five of them noticed a blue box blocking the path up ahead. The Doctor seemed unphased. In fact, that was the very place he appeared to be heading. Dean wrinkled his nose and cocked his head. "What the hell? If that's your 'secret' meeting place… I have news for you. It's a small ass box and six people will not fit inside."

The Doctor allowed himself a small smirk. "Ohhh, just you wait, Dean my boy. Just you wait."

Dean glanced over at Sam, skeptical. The guy was whacked out of his mind. Sherlock ignored everyone, pulling out his phone and texting, or appearing to be, one could never tell with the detective. John had to walk quickly to keep in pace with everyone else. He had to crane his neck upward to look at the younger Winchester brother.

His eyes had widened when he saw the man. Damned height differences. Sam noticed the smaller man walking beside him. John and the Winchester just happened to meet eyes at that moment. "Er… hello. John Watson." The army doctor thrust out a hand. Sam shook it. "Hey, I'm Sam. This is my brother Dean, and this is Cas."

Dean nodded to the guy. Castiel mimicked the older brother's actions. "Pleasure to meet you, Dr. Watson." John crinkled his brow.

"How did you know I was a doctor?"

"I'm an angel. I can see right through you. Well, more or less. My powers have been… cut off somewhat."

John's eyes narrowed in confusion and doubt. "An.. Angel. Okay then. Certainly a weird day…"

"Right then! This way everyone!" The Doctor fished about in his jacket pockets, searching for a key, then threw his hands up in the air with a laugh. "Of course! Silly me!" He snapped his fingers and the doors opened inward with an ancient creak. The Time Lord stepped across the threshold, beckoning everyone else inside. Sherlock watched as he disappeared behind the now half closed doors, an eyebrow piqued. He was the first to enter the box after the madman. He glanced about, seemingly not amused.

Next came John, his face aglow with awe and wonder of the box that was most obviously magic. It had to be. His jaw dropped as he looked at the towering console. "What… but… what.."

Cas followed, standing there, his face full of confusion and skepticism. He squinted as he stood there. "Some sort of divine power… the work of God himself." He glanced over to the Doctor for an explanation. The man merely grinned like a fool, tweaking his bowtie.

Sam and Dean stopped in the doorway, not going any further. Dean spoke first. "What kind of sorcery is this? Black magic, it has to be! What is this!" He cautiously took a few steps forward, his hand instinctively crawling to his side, ready to grab the knife.

The younger brother followed right behind Dean. "Hey Dean, I think… I think it's alien… Gotta be. Look at the writing at the top of the middle par-"

"Oh you great bumbling idiots. It's dimensionally transcendental, meaning it is bigger on the inside than the outside. Just a four-dimensional object crammed into the parameters of a three-dimensional one. It is called the TARDIS. It's really a living, sentient being. It obviously travels in time and space, and other relative dimensions. It's old, really old. At least a thousand years old minimum." Sherlock monotonously stated.

He then turned and looked at the Doctor, who was standing in shock by the control panel. "And you. You are not of this world. Gallifreyan. Time Lord by the looks of it. I know you have a deep dark secret that you do not want to reveal. That is why you appear to act like a madman. The clothes are an obvious indication of this. You are old. And you are the last of your kind." He finished by pulling out his phone, ignoring everyone once more.

The Doctor's jaw dropped and he was at a loss for words. He stumbled over them as he finally did find them, his eyes wide with surprise. "H-how did you know…"

"I didn't know. I noticed." The consulting detective said without looking up from his phone. The Doctor stood there, mouth agape. He shook his head, his floppy hair becoming a mess. He ran a hair through it as he looked up at everyone else.

"I… I like it when people just say it is bigger on the inside… I look forward to that bit…" The Doctor shook his head once more and slowly brought his hands together before spinning about to face the control panel; his purple coat twirling about him.

Dean turned to his brother. "Alien… he's a freaking alien?" He jerked a thumb over his shoulder to point in the Doctor's general direction.

"I can hear you, you know." The madman chuckled softly.

Sherlock tucked himself away in a corner, not seeming to pay attention to everyone else, but listening anyway. Suddenly the box lurched, sending everyone stumbling across the floor. The Doctor grabbed a hold of the panel. Dean and Sam caught hold of the railing. Cas went flying and landed on his face. John stumbled backwards, landing on his rump. Sherlock was the only one who had prepared, already holding tight to the railing.

"What the hell, Doctor! What is happening!"

"I don't know! Sorry let me get her stabilized!" The Doctor frantically rushed around the console, throwing down levers and slamming buttons with his fingers. The box leveled out, sort of.

Dean had finally managed to stand up straight. He went over to Cas and offered a hand, pulling the angel to his feet. As he did so, Dean glanced to the Time Lord. "Her? It's a female?"

"Er… yes. Long story… any who! About what is going on in London."

"Wait… are you saying we are no longer in London? We've moved?!" John blurted out. "Of course we've moved! As Sherlock so _obviously_ explained, she is a ship that can travel through time and space. The best ship in the universe."

Sam spoke up this time. "Why does it look like a police box, Doctor? What the hell is a police box anyway?"

The Doctor spun around, clapping his hands together with a grin. "It's a special kind of phone box from the 1950s. You Americans didn't have them… anyway! The TARDIS disguises itself, she's stuck on the police box. I've grown quite fond of it really." He chuckled and patted the control panel.

The Winchesters looked at each other and shook their heads. They were involved in something that was way above their pay grade.


	6. Chapter 6

The TARDIS was floating in deep space, surrounded by nothing, the nearest star was millions of miles away. Yet they have a perfect view of the Earth. The Doctor had convinced everyone to come to the door and look out, seeing something they would never see otherwise.

But as Dean approached, he felt his pulse quicken. His eyes widened and sweat formed on his brow. His life might have already been messed up, but this was pushing it. An alien spaceship, and now said alien was telling him to walk to the door in the middle of space. The ship had its own gravity, sure, but it wasn't right. He didn't enjoy being in this place.

Dean stopped before he made it to the door. Bracing himself against the railing, he propped himself up. Sam turned around, a smile on his face from the scene before them, and noticed his brother. "Hey.. Dean! Are you alright?"

The older brother waved him off. "Fine… yeah, wonderful. Just fantastic. Just going through a freaking panic attack here!" His breathing quickened.

The Doctor spun around, trying not to smirk. "Oi, Winchester, the TARDIS is the safest place in the universe. Nothing can happen to you aboard this ship. Just come over here and enjoy the view with the rest of us."

"I'll pass… if I fall out of that door, I am dead. Again. I like life thank you, no matter how whacked out it is."

Sam leaned against the railing by his brother. He crossed his arms. "Hey Doc! You got anything to drink… he does better when he's had a few."

The Doctor furrowed his brow. "A few? A few what?"

John laughed. "You obviously are not human, mate. He is referring to alcohol."

"Ohhhh! None on board I am afraid. I don't drink it.. Nasty stuff. How about tea? Tea calms my nerves!" The Doctor grinned.

Dean looked over at his brother, wiping the sweat from his brow. "When this is all over. I am getting drunk. Stone cold drunk."

"So… tea or no?" The Doctor queried.

Sam laughed. "Get him some…"

The older brother punched his brother in the arm. "Sammy! I don't drink… oh what the hell."

The Doctor disappeared down the hallway, coming back moments later with a whole tray of goodies and tea. Only they were English goodies. Tea especially. Dean wrinkled his nose and ran a hand through his hair.

"Right then! Snacks while we talk about this! I need to know everything you do! There is something more than just that one weeping angel or we wouldn't all be involved…"

Sherlock looked up at that. He put his phone away. "You're saying all of us are here for different reasons?"

The Doctor shrugged. "It certainly seems that way. Cas!"

The angel turned around, eyes narrowed in his usual expression. "Yes?"

"What was your reason for coming here?"

"News from the angels. Something happening with them weeping."

"Are you sure that's what they were talking about?" The Doctor questioned. Cas became even more confused.

"Yes… wait. There was something else. About some new power that they didn't know of."

"Brilliant!" The Time Lord clapped his hands. "And you, Sherly?"

Sherlock raised an eyebrow at the pet name but shook his head. "Missing persons case. Supposedly linked to an illness."

"You see. They are all linked."

"What… how!" Dean exclaimed. "That makes no sense."

"Sherlock. That illness is caused by whatever supernatural being is in the area. Some kind of them are spreading like wildfire."

Sam stood up straight. "That's our line of work… we just need to figure out what. Are you saying they allied with the angel? But… how did that work? Are the angels not sending them back in time like you said… displacement or whatever?""No. They are just making them ill… and then they turn into something else. And then they go after a new victim. They are spreading."

"Doctor… take us back to that park. Now." Sam said. The Doctor's eyes widened. "Right… yeah, of course." He rushed to the controls. John threw the doors shut and the box quaked again, the top of the console spun, and the box materialized in the park. The Doctor rushed out of it, followed by the Winchesters and Cas, who were closely followed by John and Sherlock.

As the Doctor rushed to the clearing once more, he noticed something had gone gravely wrong. Something was missing. The stone statue was no longer in the alcove. The weeping angel was gone. It its place was nothing more than a small pile of a yellow powdery substance. Sam and Dean glanced at each other. They both knew what it meant. They both knew who the angels had somehow allied with.

"Demons." They faces both shared the same worried, angry look as they said the one word at the same time.

A new voice spoke from behind them. Another man. In a black suit. He was around average height, had a brooding look on his face. He smirked. "Hello boys…"


	7. Chapter 7

All of the men spun around at the exact same time. As the smirk grew, Crowley stepped forward from where he was leaning against a tree.

"You!" The Doctor exclaimed.

The demon chuckled. "Me."

Dean looked at Crowley. "You _know _each other?"

"Ha! Was playing FBI agent in the '60s. He got involved. Was amusing that he never figured out it was me." A sly grin flickered across the man's face. He straightened his tie.

"You're… you're Canton?!" the Doctor's jaw dropped. Crowley laughed. "The real name's Crowley, Doc."

Dean interrupted their lovely reunion. "What the hell is going on here!" He shouted, causing the few people that were within earshot to look up at him. He stared them down and turned back to the Doctor and Crowley, who were now standing toe to toe.

"What are you doing here, Crowley?"

"Oh… you know, this park is lovely for business." He raised his hands, looking around.

"Cut the crap. Why are you here?" Dean snarled, pulling the knife from his belt. The demon laughed.

"The angels… well, a certain few of them, are working with me."

Sam leaned forward just slightly, towering over the man. "Working… with you?"

"Yes… back up, moose." The demon stepped back just for good measure. Sam closed his eyes, standing there, annoyed. Crowley laughed.

"You want to know about the stone statue? Especially you, Doc. Oh goody, the detective is here as well. Well look at that, I brought you all out of your little worlds, didn't I? Moriarty sends his love, Sherlock." The demon smirked once more.

Sherlock looked up. "He's dead. He shot himself through the brain stem. You don't come back from that."

"Maybe, maybe not. I am the King of Hell after all. Either way, talking to him there is a down right pleasure. Good man, shame he got killed so soon. Maybe I'll send him back for some fun! You'd like that, wouldn't you, Sherly?"

The detective scoffed. "Highly unlikely you will. You have other things to deal with, like these 'angel' allies."

"Ah… trying to get me to spill my secrets, Sherly. That won't work. I will tell exactly what I want to tell when I want to tell it."

Cas piped up. "Crowley. Quit stalling. Do these angels have anything to do with my brothers and sisters?"

The demon stood there, clicking his tongue. He put all his weight on one foot, leaning comfortably. That sly smirk flashed into view once more, more foreboding this time. "Maybeee…"

Cas was not amused. Before Crowley knew it, he was being shoved back against the tree. "Yes or no! Give me a straight answer!" The demon snickered.

"Alright alright! Just… let go. You're wrinkling my suit. Maybe… one in particular. You remember when Sam was in the cage? Along with Michael? Well… sure, Mikey is tough, but when you're in hell for awhile, it does things to people who aren't accustomed to it. Dean would know, wouldn't you!" The older Winchester cringed.

Cas growled. "What. Did. You. DO!"

"Okay okay! I turned him… an ancient spell. He is bound to me. And I thought I would try something else… when I was with the Doc that day, he briefly mentioned other foes in the universe. Well I did my research. Found out about these weeping angels! Let me tell you when one is possessed you do not want to be around. Not even the whole 'no blinking' trick will work now. Basically since Mikey is bound to me, I control him. He controls my army of statues. They do most of my business for me nowadays. It's been going on for awhile. I am ashamed you just noticed it now."

Crowley noted everyone's looks of shock. Until of course his gaze fell upon Sherlock's glance. "Ah yes.. The illness. That was just a few of my minions having fun. Nothing big about that. They're done now. They just have a thing against police forces." He shrugged carelessly. He then stepped forward, dusting himself off.

Cas glared at him, following his every move. Dean's grip tightened on the knife. Crowley laughed. "Dean…" He clicked his tongue. "I actually liked you… in fact. I could make a deal with you. _All_ of you."

"Take your deal and shove it where the sun don't shine, Crowley." Dean stated. The demon laughed again.

"Oh come on. All of you give up your soul to save the world… I don't see that as that big of a deal. And I'll tell you what. I'll even bend the deal so you live for fifteen years instead of ten. You each give me your soul, and I call my army off."

"How about I stab you in the chest right here and now and live longer, hmm?" Dean raised the knife.

"Dean, Dean, Dean…" Crowley shook his head. Next moment he was nowhere to be found.

The Doctor stood there, wide-eyed. "Okay… Canton is a demon… demons are possessing weeping angels… talk about a bad day."

"There has to be a way to gank the bastards." Dean said. "Besides his deal."

"I am not so sure, Dean." Cas said.

"Cas… can you stop him?"

"He's stronger than me, Dean. I don't know."

"We all can. Together. Obviously that's why we were all called here." John stated. "Doctor… these angels. They are different than what you deal with, but they are still similar, yes?"

"Uh… yeah. What are you saying, Watson?" Sam asked.

"He is saying that they can be stopped. Sherly!"

"If one more person calls me by that name I am resorting to serious measures." Sherlock said. "What, Doctor!"

The Doctor's eyes widened. "Sorry… it suits you! Anywho, go back to the TARDIS. The library. You and John can research this for us. I have some spell books I got from some people awhile ago. I recall reading something like that awhile ago."

The Winchesters looked at the Doctor accusingly. "I don't use them! I stopped someone from using them to summon a planet here, now stop looking at me like that. Chop, chop Holmes!" The Doctor clapped his hands. Sherlock snarled. John sighed. "Come on, Sherlock…" John and the detective strolled off to the box, going inside.

"You three. Come with me." The Doctor gestured to the Winchesters and Cas. "We're going to find this angel. And then we are going to talk to Crowley again. This can be solved. We will end this. We are ending this today. Now! Come on then!"

"Doctor… how do you propose we stop these demon angels?" Cas questioned.

"Well… I've got a few ideas. And a last resort if it comes to it. We have to find them. They are only in this city. There are four of them. We stop them, we save the world from Crowley's scheme. And we still have our souls to boot!"

The Doctor grinned madly, fixing his bowtie as he walked along the sidewalk with them. Dean slung his bag of weapons over his shoulder and glanced over to his brother and raised his eyebrows, cocking his head. There was a fight coming. They all knew that much.


	8. Chapter 8

Back in the TARDIS library, the two flat mates were perusing the 'few' spell-books that the Doctor owned. And by a few, it was more like an entire section on the top floor of the crazed library inside the impossibly larger on the inside police call box.

When John first came across the library, he hitched a breath, shock overwhelming him. Sherlock however stepped inside without a care in the world, not so much as glancing around himself. "Right, typical older library, commonly organized by the use of the books, not alphabetically as modern libraries are. So, knowing the Doctor he wouldn't use these kinds of books. Top floor, longer to access."

John shook his head as Sherlock dashed off to a nearby spiral staircase that led to the upper floors. The detective ran up them, rushing for a certain shelf, as if he knew exactly where he was going. His long, pale fingers ran over the spines of the ancient books, stirring up the dust on them. He scanned the titles as he rushed about. "Aha!"

Watson had finally caught up with the man, hands on his knees as he caught a quick breath. But his relief was short-lived. The detective was tossing books off the shelf, and tossed them to his flat mate. "Watson! Took you long enough!"

Sherlock took an armload of books himself and sat them down on the table. "Right then, where to begin…"

* * *

The other crew was sitting in a restaurant, conversing. Cas and the Doctor sat next to each other, while Sam and Dean sat on the other side of the table. "Right! I propose that you two go on ahead and scout out the other half of this mess."

Dean narrowed his eyes as he looked at the Time Lord. He rolled his shoulders as he sat there, adjusting his seat in the chair. "Other… half?"

"The illness. It's more than what Cant- er.. Crowley, admitted to. I know it is. So, if you two would kindly go investigate the matter at Scotland Yard." He smiled, clapping his hands together. Cas narrowed his eyes.

"Doctor… there are more pressing matters at hand." The angel cocked his head slightly, confused.

"I know I know! Which is why I am going on ahead and looking for the angels." the Doctor announced quite loudly. The angel sat there still.

"Those things will rip you apart, Doctor. You are not going alone." Cas snarled slightly. "Self-sacrifice is not useful when you are useful yourself, Doctor. I will accompany you. And if worst comes to worst, I can get you out of there and deal with it. I am stronger than all of you." Cas then turned back to the Winchesters. "You two be careful, you are like my family. I do not want anything bad to happen to you." He nodded his head, tapped two fingers against the Doctor's forehead, and was gone.

Dean's gaze lingered where the angel had been sitting moments before. "Damn it Cas!" He shook his head and then spoke to his brother. "Well, you heard the man. He evidently knows what he is talking about. I have an idea. Come on, Sam."

"Wait! Want to fill me in here, and it's not like we have any gear to go parading around as agents, now do we?" Sam stayed where he was. Dean sighed.

"The Doctor's female box… machine… whatever… it's big enough that there has to be some kind of closet or something. And judging on the man's clothes, one he hasn't come out of yet."

Sam shook his head. "Alright then. Let's go."

In the TARDIS wardrobe, the boys were having problems finding normal clothes that they could stand to be caught dead in. Finally they each found something that was at least suitable for their tastes.

"I said it before, and I'll say it again. This son of a bitch has some gay ass clothes." Dean tugged down the lapels of the tux and tails he was wearing. He rummaged around for a necktie, but couldn't find anything but bowties. "Ahhh… wonderful! This is just terrific! I am not wearing a freaking bowtie! No way in hell!"

Sam laughed, having found a black suit. It was normal, just like the monkey suit he wore back in the States. "Just… skip the tie then. Come on, let's go."

Dean turned around, seeing what his brother was wearing. "What… where… never mind. Screw it. Let's just get this over with."

Sam followed him back to the control room and out the doors. He opened his mouth to speak, and then shut it again. He threw the bag down on the ground and fished out their two fake FBI badges. Okay, in England, and going with the FBI from America. That certainly seemed foolproof.

"Hey Dean? Where exactly… is Scotland Yard?"

"How the hell do I know! I'm not from here! Damn it! This whole plan sucks!"

"Hang on…" Sam ducked back into the TARDIS. Dean threw his hands up, grabbed their bag of supplies, and followed him. "What the hell are you doing?"

Sam was by the control panel, tapping away at the keyboard. Dean watched, confused, annoyed, and he had a desperate desire to go get a drink. "I am trying to find the place!"

"What place?"

Dean spun around to find Watson standing there. "Scotland Yard."

"Right. It's not hard. Sam, come with me. Sherlock is still researching and he's being a dick." John said. Dean raised his eyebrows but shrugged. "And what the hell am I supposed to do?"

"Stay with him. Go help him."

"Great. Wonderful." Dean stalked off down the hallway, muttering under his breath. He stopped in the doorway of the library, looking around the immense place. "Damn, when he says bigger on the inside he means it… wonder if that has a double meaning…" Dean smirked to himself and walked into the room, the wooden floor creaking beneath him. "Sherlock? You in here?"

No response. He did hear shuffling from the upper floor, so he tromped up the spiral staircase and saw the detective sitting there, reading the books. Or appearing to be. "Sherlock?"

Still nothing. Was the man really that into the book in front of him or what the hell? The older brother stood in front of Sherlock, now across the table from him. Dean sat down in the chair there, examining the man. "So… this how it's gonna be? You're just going to ignore me?"

Sherlock looked up, irritated. He blinked, and Dean saw the light glint off his pure black eyes. In a flash he had the knife drawn, but he wasn't quick enough. Dean found himself flying backwards into the nearest bookshelf, and then through it. In moments the possessed Sherlock Holmes was on him, punching him with one fist and then the next. "Crowley says hello, Winchester. Either back off from the statues, or he will make sure you do. All of you."

Sherlock, well, the demon inside him, continued throwing punches until Dean was well past consciousness. His lip and nose were bloodied and bruised, his face completely swollen to the point where he couldn't open his left eye. Blood trickled down his forehead, pooling on the floor next to where he lay, surrounded by the remains of the bookshelf and scattered books.

The consulting detective stood up and brushed himself off, before grabbing a certain spell book and walking off with it, disappearing into the dim pathways between the shelves.


	9. Chapter 9

**Hello everyone! **

**I am so sorry for not updating sooner, I feel awful. Blame technology. My laptop would not allow me to log on to my account and it still will not, so I had to rewrite what I had done of Chapter 9 on my school computer, so my story may be veering from the original path, but I should be getting back on track soon enough. Anyway! Thank you to all who favorited and reviewed! So! Without further blabbing from my end, I give you Chapter 9! **

* * *

The Doctor ended up landing on his face, the clumsy giraffe that he was. He picked himself up and dusted himself off, straightening his cool bowtie. "Blimey that is a cool way to travel! Bit unsettling though… could go for some fish fingers and custard right about now!"

Cas narrowed his eyes as he glanced peculiarly at the strange man. He shook his head to dismiss the thought. "So, Doctor. These demonic angels, where can I find them and destroy them?"

"Cas my boy, it may not be that easy. The weeping angels are tough enough as it is. Combined with some sort of demonic possession, that's gonna be a tricky one."

"Of course. Where do we start?"

"Hmm… try asking around. See if anyone here has seen anything weird." The Doctor clapped his hands and went ahead of Cas, leaving him by himself. Cas furrowed his brow and shook his head, walking the other direction. Surely the madman had some idea what he was doing.

Cas walked down the street, his hands at his side. Finally he stopped one person who seemed a bit distraught. "Hello there. I have a query into this strange demonic business happening around here. Have you noticed any evil looking statues trying to make deals with people?"

The young woman, who was in fact upset because someone had stolen her handbag, looked at the angelic man in terror. "Mate, I don't know what the hell you've had, but I think you've had a fair bit too much." She shoved past him, her eyes wide as she headed down the street. She glanced back at him, gathering her coat tighter about her as she fearfully looked back at the man. He was mad.

The angel's gaze followed her down the street, his eyes narrowed in confusion. He felt someone clap him on the shoulder and craned around to see the madman looking at him. "Subtlety my friend. It helps in cases like this."

Subtle. There was nothing subtle about the madman standing before him. "Of course. Did you discover anything?"

"Plenty my boy, plenty!" He threw an arm around Cas as they rounded the bend nearly collided with Sherlock. The Doctor's eyes widened. "Blimey mate! Sherly, where are you off to in a rush?"

Sherlock, well the demon who possessed him, smirked. "I was just off to find you guys! This book has the key to stopping the demon angels. It's right here, in this book that I have." Repetitive and dull. Definitely not two aspects of Sherlock Holmes. Cas narrowed his eyes again.

The Doctor however was oblivious. He was notorious for being slow after all. A big cheery grin spread across his face as he clapped 'Sherlock' on the shoulder. "So, what's the key to stopping them, then?"

It was right then that Cas noticed the man's eyes glint black in the sunlight. The angel tackled him to the ground, groaning with the effort. Sherlock stumbled beneath him, but threw a punch, making Cas's face pop with a sickening crunch as his fist connected with his nose. "Crowley."

Sherlock threw Cas several feet down the sidewalk. The angel landed with a groan, but he stood up. He popped his nose back into place, wincing as he did so. Sherlock was now standing up again, straightening his scarf and flipping his collar up around his neck. The book was tucked close against his side. He spoke, but it wasn't Holmes speaking. "Castiel. Always the one to ruin my fun, aren't you?"

"Crowley!? Cas, that's Sherlock!"

Cas shook his head. "No, that's Crowley. He's possessing the detective."

Sherlock smirked. "Ah, he's a worthy component, but his fashion tastes aren't suitable. Just give us a mo."

Sherlock threw his head back and red smoke emitted from his mouth, settling into a certain form as Sherlock collapsed. Crowley was standing there, clicking his tongue, and holding the book. Sherlock wasn't breathing. The Doctor was about to rush forward but Cas stopped him. "Don't."

Crowley chuckled. "Oh Castiel. You're always too slow. You want this book? You stand down."

"Not a chance in hell, Crowley." Cas snarled, his face bloody.

"Then good luck stopping them. They will now be trained on that delightful little police box of yours, Doc. Happy hunting!" He winked and vanished from sight.

Cas turned to the Doctor. The Doctor turned to look as Cas. If they weren't screwed before, they were now.

* * *

**Hope you enjoyed this bit! More to come as soon as I can get it typed up! Read and Review! :D **


End file.
